Master of the House
by FloridaChickie
Summary: Jasper and Edward spend a lonely night working the graveyard shift of their college radio shows. Read about the same night from two POVs. Comedy. AH. Rated M for daydreaming citrus.
1. Jasper on KXLC AM

**"Master of the House"**

_Disclaimer: While SM owns the Twi universe, the remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization. _

**Chapter 1: Jasper on KXLC AM**

**JPOV**

"You're listening to _Master of the House_ live on KXLC AM. This is Jax spinning the best house music in all of San Louis Obispo. I have queued up some Tribal Kings to play next, so enjoy."

I tapped the 'on air' button off and slipped out of my headphones. The strong bass drum was filling the entire studio, putting me in a trance as I sat back and sipped my coffee. It was 4 a.m., and I had the entire back end of the radio station pretty much all to myself. A guy named Edward was in the main studio that housed the FM station. He was doing some classical music show (aka yawn fest) and was about as social as a monk who had taken a vow of silence. He pretty much did his own thing, and I never saw him except when our shifts ended at six.

Aside from having different studios, there was another stark difference between us. Unlike me, Edward actually had listeners even at this insane hour of the day. See, I was only a sophomore at Cal Uni, and as a newbie to college radio, I was stuck with the graveyard shift. To make matters worse, I was on the AM station which was only broadcast on cable radio to the dorms on campus. So unless one begged for their friends to listen, it was a lonely life as a KXLC deejay. The university kept us newcomers on the AM station until we could prove we were ready for FM by having knowledge of the equipment and attaining an FCC license. I was pretty confident with working the mixing board and was well on my way in preparing for the FCC exam. I even already had my snazzy deejay name, Jax. Jasper just didn't seem to have that je ne sais quoi.

But for now, it was just me and my empty studio. I used my radio shows as an opportunity to listen to the extensive music library and record my broadcasts for making music mixes. Every once in awhile, I would make up bogus contests to see if anyone would call in, but the line always remained quiet. Tonight was no different than the rest.

An hour had gone by, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I was out of coffee which wasn't much help anyway at such a late hour. I filled the time with my usual tricks, speaking in funny deejay voices, sneaking in a cheesy song just to see if someone would catch it, and pretending I was playing song requests.

Thoughts of Alice began to cross my mind. She was this hot girl in my psychology class who also lived in my dorm. We started studying together recently, and I was working up my courage to ask her out.

I shifted in my seat as I imagined how she looked the other day, her short, jet black hair was worn to the side, pinned by a cute barrette. She wore tight, dark jeans and green Converse. I especially admired her Clash shirt, not only because I love the band, but because it hugged her in all the right spots.

My mind started to wander when I noticed that the song had ended and there was dead air on the radio. Oops!

"Sorry about that guys, technical difficulties over here. Next up is DJ Tofurella and her _Crazy Candy Panfried_ mix. She's from Japan, but rumor has it, she'll be doing a U.S. club tour later this year."

I have to admit, I was sly in choosing this song, knowing full well it had a running time of over ten minutes. Rising to my feet, I quickly locked the studio door and closed the horizontal blinds. I grabbed a couple of Kleenex out of the tissue box before sliding back into my chair. Secure that I would be undisturbed, I closed my eyes and returned to daydreaming about Alice.

We were lying on the floor of her dorm room; her roommate was gone for the evening. We were studying psych together, when all of a sudden, Alice crept closer to me and pulled the text book out of my hands. She tossed it to my side and looked at me with yearning eyes.

Before you could say Carl Jung, our lips were on each other, our kisses growing more forceful with each meeting of our tongues. I lifted her so she could sit on my lap, using my hands to curiously explore under her t-shirt, The Clash one of course.

She combed her hands roughly through my hair, while practically groaning into my mouth.

"Ugh, yes, Alice. Tug on my hair like that!"

She began to slowly lower her body, sliding her ass down my legs. Her intent became very clear as soon as I felt her hand unbuttoning my jeans.

"Fuck yes."

As she worked the zipper, her other hand massaged me through my jeans. I was hard as steel by the time she released me from the confines of the pants; my dick begging for her warm lips.

Alice confidently held me in her hand, cupping my balls as she went to town on that bad boy. She took me whole a few times, before asking me if I wanted more.

"Oh god, yes, Alice. You feel so good. Uhhh."

She smiled, knowing that she was pleasing me with the talents of her tongue. As she took me completely inside, I felt myself getting closer and closer to the brink.

"Uhhh... uhhhhh."

Her tongue massaged me back and forth, creating just the friction I needed to...

"Oh, fuck, I'm coming, holy shit. Holy fucking shit! Uhhhh."

I collapsed further into the chair, hearing my deep breathing overtaking the beats of DJ Tofurella. As I started to reach equilibrium again, I cleaned myself off and rose from the chair so as to throw away the tissues. The effects of my intense orgasm made me a little bit wobbly, causing me to trip into the mixing board.

As I straightened myself back on my feet, I noticed the 'on air' button was lit. Thinking I must of turned it on during my fall, I quickly tapped it off and thought nothing more of it. I turned my attention to the turntables, queuing up DeeJayson's new record.

My shift came to an end, and I said my obligatory "Good Night" to Edward as we both exited the station. I headed into the still quiet dorm and collapsed on my bed. Sleep immediately overtook me.

I woke up just in time to hit the dining common for lunch. After showing my ID, I headed in, quickly noticing my pals all sitting at the same table.

"Hey guys, save me a seat. I'll join you in just a bit," I yelled over to them.

As I started to walk away, I heard them clapping and cheering me on. Turning to see what was the commotion, my friend Emmett hollered to me. "Nice performance last night! You better hope Alice wasn't listening too!"

My friends laughed till they were red in the face, but somehow they couldn't possibly be a darker shade than me. I wished for the earth to crack open and suck me in.

And so was the last time I ever appeared on live radio.

**A/N: I used to do college radio awhile back, so it was fun to reflect on those lonely days in the studio. Of course, I never had anything happen to me like poor Jasper (Jax). The next chapter is written from Edward's POV.  
**

**While participating in the Fictionista WitFit (Dec.) monthly writing challenge, this story was written using this prompt:**

**Musical Mastery** **(prompt was a YouTube clip of a song by Tribal Kings - house music). Please remember, these WitFit entries are not beta'd, so I'm sorry for any grammatical errors.**

**I would love to hear your feedback, so please click on that review button. All reviewers get a kiss from DJ Tofurella.**


	2. Edward on KSLO FM

_Disclaimer: While SM owns the Twi universe, the remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization._

**Chapter 2: Edward on KSLO FM**

**EPOV**

The melancholy sound of the piano in Chopin's _Nocturne_ filled the studio as I sat back in my chair and stared blankly out the window into the radio station. I had hoped to see him perusing the music library tonight, but he hadn't stepped out of his studio during his show tonight.

Of course, Jasper didn't know that I watched him when he was out there. I usually covered my face with an LP, peeking over the vinyl to admire his tall frame and the way his fingers expertly flipped through the sleeves. His shaggy blond hair looked like it hadn't been washed in a few days, but somehow that made him even more alluring.

He was completely the opposite of me. Where his radio show was that electronic stuff, mine revolved around the classics. He probably hit the clubs, while I was at the concert halls. And for all I knew, he was straight, while I was...well, gay.

But then again, I hoped I was wrong with my assumption. He sure wasn't straight when I thought about him in _certain_ ways. He had been on my mind ever since I first met him earlier this semester.

Part of me wanted to open the door and march on over to the AM studio, but how could I be so bold? What would I even say to him?

Every week as we left the station in the wee hours of the morning, we barely acknowledged one another. I could only muster a brief "Hello" and "Good Morning." Once, I bravely asked, "Good show this week?" of which he answered quietly, "Yes, thanks" before heading down the other end of campus.

Truth be told, I was scared to talk to him. I was new to all of this and just didn't know where to even start.

_Just talk to him, idiot! Try and get to know him. It's the only way you'll ever know._

Before I could continue berating myself, it was time to play my next piece. Clicking the 'on air' button, I adjusted the microphone so it was positioned closer to my face.

"This is Edward Cullen and you're listening to KSLO FM, live from California University here in San Louis Obispo. Next up, I have Yefim Bronfman playing with the Vienna Philharmonic performing Rachmaninoff's _Concerto No. 3_. This recording was made in Tokyo a few years ago." I pressed the play button on the CD player and raised the volume on the sound board.

Knowing I had just given myself a ten minute break, I stood up to stretch my stiff legs. My two hour show was half way done, and all the coffee I had consumed earlier to help me stay awake had started to hit me. I promptly opened the studio door and walked over to the bathroom.

While washing my hands, I got a good look at myself in the mirror. Not liking the sheepish face that was staring back at me, I started to speak to myself out loud.

_Just say "hi" to him or pretend you need help. Ask him what he is doing for the fall fundraiser drive next week._

I nodded at myself, affirming that the latter comment was the safest plan I could come up with that seemed the most believable. My show was being broadcast in the bathroom, so I knew I still had several minutes left of Rachmaninoff. Before I could turn all chicken shit, I opened the door and headed to the back end of the radio station.

As I turned the corner, heading down the familiar hall to the KXLC studio, I could hear his show blaring through the closed door. I remembered this studio well, having had several lonely shifts on AM before making it to FM this past summer. Noticing that the blinds were pulled shut, I knocked on the door, but Jasper did not answer.

I felt like an idiot when I looked up and saw the "On Air" sign was lit. Doh! Well, I guess I would have to try some other time. The shy side of me was relieved, while the bolder side was sad that I could not seize the opportunity to talk with him.

As I walked away, I heard Jasper say "Fuck, yes" on the air.

_He must be having a good show!, _I thought to myself. Ah, to be on AM cable radio, and not have the fear of the FCC breathing down your neck. That was the only perk of being on KXLC.

I headed back into my studio with a couple of minutes to spare and queued Beethoven's _Symphony No. 9_ to play next.

Six A.M. came pretty quickly, and I gathered my cds and records to take home. As I stepped out of the station, I noticed Jasper walking my way. He had a smile on his face as he approached me. I felt hopeful that maybe he wanted to actually chat with me, but as soon as the words "Good Night" came out of his mouth, he scurried quickly out the door.

My sense of hope deflated, I slowly made my exit as well.

_Oh well, there was always next week to try again._

**A/N:**

**This story was also written for the WitFit challenge. The prompt was "Musical Prompt: Beethoven's Symphony No. 9." It seemed only logical to take another look at the same night in the college radio station from EPOV! It's been fun writing about two music loving nerds. (Maybe because I am married to one!)**

**As always, and like every author on this site, I would love to hear your thoughts!**

**xoxo, FLC**


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